“So. Close.” Her words are choppy as pleasure steals away her ability to speak.
“I love you, Stella.” I tug on the chain of her necklace and then slide my hand back down her belly, pressing my index and middle fingers against her swollen, needy clit.
“I-I—oh my God—I love you too!”
I increase my pace and apply more pressure with my fingers, rubbing them in time with my thrusts. “You feel so good, Luna. Clenching my dick so tight. Fuuuuuck!” I groan, as her pussy walls squeeze my cock. “Like heaven, made just for me.”
Stella’s entire body tenses as her orgasm crests, her eyes closed tight as she cries my name.
“Goddamn.” I press my lips to the soft skin of her neck. “That was…”
“Perfect,” she murmurs, her voice soft from her release. “It was perfect.”
“We’re perfect. Meant for each other. No, fuck that—made for each other. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Stella.”
“You are too.” She reaches her hand up and brushes her fingers along my jaw. “Sometimes, it’s hard to believe that you’re all mine.”
“I am though. Forever.” Her necklace catches my eye, and an idea sparks. It’s probably not my best idea, but I’m still riding the high of my release. “Let’s get married.”
“What?” She tries to turn and look at me, but I wrap my arms around her, keeping her in place. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious.” I reach up and grab the chain of her necklace. “When I gave you this ring, I meant it. I fucked things up to hell and back, but I. Meant. It. I want to spend my life with you, and I know you deserve a real proposal and a real ring, so consider this your warning, Stella.”
“My warning?” This time when she tries to pull away from me, I allow her to, instantly missing the warmth of her body. She pushes herself to a sitting position and glances down at me. “What does that even mean?”
I follow suit, and sit up, propping myself against the headboard. “It means, I am going to ask you to be my wife—down on one knee, the whole shebang. It’s coming, Stella. I want it all with you.”
“Okay, Samson.” She rolls her eyes like she thinks I’m talking out of my ass. “Well, why don’t we start with a shower and some food?”
“Just you wait…” I stand from the bed and then help her up. “You’ll see.”
And she will see—not just when I propose—but every day, for the rest of our lives because I’ll fucking show her. I’ll show her, with my actions, exactly how much I love her. How much I fucking cherish her.
Stella and I may have started as a secret, but our love for one another is too damn strong to deny, and I plan to prove to her, for the rest of our days, exactly how proud I am to call her mine.
Epilogue
Stella
“Where is it?” My heart pounds as I shuffle everything around on my bathroom counter for what feels like the hundredth time. “Where did it go?”
“You almost ready to—” Samson stops short when he sees me. “—hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“No!” My eyes fill with tears as my frustration reaches a boiling point. “It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?” He crosses the room and wraps me in his arms.
“My necklace!” I shake off his hold and drop down to my knees to search through the cabinet one more time. “I took it off last night because the chain had some hair wrapped around it and now it’s gone!”
“Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ll find it.”
“But what if we don’t?” I ask, my tears falling in fat drops. “I’ll never forgive myself if it’s lost, Samson. That ring… it means so much to me.”
“Luna, baby.” He crouches down beside me and tips my chin up so we’re eye to eye. “It will turn up. I’m sure of it.”
“You think so?”
“I do.” Samson nods and stands back up. “But if we don’t head out right now, we’ll be late.”
I stare up at him from beneath damp lashes. “But… my necklace.”
Reaching down, he hauls me up. “I promise you, the second we get home, I will tear this house apart with you to find it, okay?”
“I know, but—” Samson silences my protest with a hard press of his lips against mine.
Like always, the second our tongues touch, every thought that isn’t of him falls away, until he consumes all of my senses.
I tunnel my fingers into his long hair and crawl onto his lap, needing to be closer, but instead of deepening our kiss, Samson pulls back. “No buts, Luna. Come on, we gotta go.”
“Fine.” I scramble to stand. “Let me just fix my makeup.”
“I’ll start the truck.”
I grab a cleansing wipe and blot away the smudged makeup from underneath my eyes, dust some powder over my cheeks, swipe on a new coat of mascara, and call it good.